


Still A Better Love Story than Twilight

by officerstilinskihale



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Awkwardness, Basically, I meant blind drunk, It's all fluff, M/M, Sorry again, The End, a little of it, and happiness, and wedding at the end woop woop, but other than that, but yeah, cashier!derek, clearly i'm awful at tags, dub-con, grocery store au, how do you spell that, if you guys didn't already get that, mentions of polyamorous relationships, so if that isn't your thing, they have sex while they're both blind, yeah - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-01
Updated: 2013-07-01
Packaged: 2017-12-16 18:14:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/865089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/officerstilinskihale/pseuds/officerstilinskihale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><strong>Prompt:</strong> "grocery store AU where Stiles is a frequent shopper and Derek is a grumpy till worker who's conflicted between wanting to go home and ogling his hot customer."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Still A Better Love Story than Twilight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Scruffy_Wolf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scruffy_Wolf/gifts).



> Again, dedicated to [captainscruffywolf](http://captainscruffywolf.tumblr.com/) because we're doing this [thing](http://officerstilinskihale.tumblr.com/post/52855894717/fuckin-fluffy-mondays) to stop dying from the constant heartache that Teen Wolf so lovingly provides every week.
> 
> Unbeta'd, all mistakes are mine, please leave a comment if you find any that are liKe diS.
> 
> Ah, Jeff Davis, you trooper, you (I don't even know how the commas appeared there. Commas and I have a friends-with-benifits type relationship; I use them without any regard to their feelings and they like to make me feel like a twat). Anyway, Jeff, my darling prince, I'd like to take this time to credit your brilliant brain for coming up with the hilarity of Teen Wolf, because without it, this would not exist. Four for you, Glen Coco!

When Derek first met Stiles, the first words out of the boy's mouth was,

"So do we need a chainsaw?"

Derek snapped his head up as he heard the  _thunk_  of heavy items being put on his conveyor and when he saw what was on his countertop, he couldn't hold back a horrified noise.

A Barbie doll, a pair of fancy, see-through lingerie and a blowtorch.

"Oh, hold on, I think maybe we'll pass on the chainsaw," the voice continued and Derek lifted his head slowly to see what sort of creepy, terrifying, old—

_Oh_.

"Wow, hi," the guy blurts out, leering pretty obviously at Derek, "I'm Stiles."

Derek's frozen, staring open-mouthed at this gorgeous person checking him out, his long, slender fingers wrapped around the neck of a bottle of wine in a way that was really ridiculously obscene.

Stiles just stares back at him, his eyes bright and expectant and Derek shakes himself, remembering that normal human beings actually used their words.

"Derek," he said, his voice coming out gruffer than he intended, if the way Stiles' face fell was anything to go by.

"Ah, yeah," Stiles chuckled nervously, running a hand through his already sex-messy hair and  _god_ ; Derek did not need that mental image.

"Your friend is still on the phone," Derek told him, nodding at the phone clutched tightly in Stiles' hand and grabbing the first thing he could get his hands on, which just so happened to be the lacy underwear.

Derek felt his face heat up because,  _his life_  and glanced down to find the tag, so he could get over the mortifying experience and sulk alone at home, completely missing the way Stiles' eyes flicked between Derek's face and the panties in his hands, his eyes darkening and his tongue darting out to wet his lips.

" _Stiles_!" a tinny voice came out of Stiles' phone and he jerked out of his daze to look down at his hand, horrified that he had forgotten about Scott.

"Yeah hold on, I'll call you later, there's this really hot guy holding the lace really sexily and is now probably going to star in a large number of my next few fantasies and now he probably thinks I'm a creeper or a murderer or something," Stiles blurted out before his eyes went wide in shock.

They stared at each other for a brief moment before Stiles squeaked, throwing down a twenty as he grabbed his bags and ran away.

With an $80 bottle of wine, still unpaid for.

Derek sighed.

His life, seriously.

+++

"I get the  _worst_  jobs," Derek whined later that night, his voice muffled from where he was buried under the covers while Erica stood there with a hand on her hip, trying not to laugh.

"Der—"

"The  _worst_ ," Derek repeated morosely, cutting her off mid-word. He popped his head out of his blanket cocoon for a moment to stare at her pleadingly.

"I don't know what you want me to do, it's not like you don't have the money to pay for the loss of the bottle. You're _loaded_ , why do you even work there? Or you could report it as a robbery because technically this guy stole it from you."

"It's not the bottle," he complained, completely ignoring her question and shoving his head back under the covers, sighing dramatically because Erica  _just didn't get it_ , "It's  _him_ , okay?"

Erica couldn't tamp down the giggle from escaping her throat fast enough and Derek lifted his head again to glare at her. When he saw her fingers flying across the screen of her phone, his eyes narrowed.

"You're not texting Laura, are you?" he asked suspiciously. She rolled her eyes and bent down to press a kiss on his forehead.

"Oh honey, it's like you don't even know me," was all she said before flipping her hair over her shoulder and walking away. Derek squinted at her retreating figure for a moment before his phone started buzzing. Glancing down for a moment, he groaned when he saw Laura's name buzzing on his screen.

"I hate you," he called out to Erica before biting his lip and answering the call, "What?"

"That's a bit mean," Laura's tinkling voice said without any real heat behind the words and she sighed in his ear, "What are we going to do with you Der?"

"Ek.  _Der. Ek. **Derek**_ ," Derek argued half-heartedly and ignored Laura's cluck of disapproval, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"I can get you a new job?" she offered and Derek sat up abruptly, literally about to take her up on her offer when the words froze on his tongue.

If he got a new job, he would probably never see that guy—Stiles?—again.

"It's fine," Derek said nonchalantly, deflating back down onto his stomach and rubbing his cheek on his pillow, "The job has its perks."

He scowled at the phone when he heard Laura let out a snort of laughter.

Even though he didn't need the money, he had his own reasons for working, and Laura got that. She was the same, except  _her_  job had better pay and a lower suicide rate.

"I'm sure it does baby bro," she cooed over the line and he growled back at her.

"I'm hanging up," he warned before putting the phone down when all she did was laugh even louder at him.

He turned around to find Erica stifling her giggles in the doorway before he flipped her off and threw his phone across his (thankfully carpeted) room.

+++

"Hi, how was your day?" Derek mumbled half-heartedly, not even looking up from his till when he heard the shuffle of a late-night shopper heading for his aisle. His boss, Finstock, had constantly complained about his lack of a smile when greeting the customers, even threatening to fire him a couple of times if he didn't change.

_"You need to be approachable, Hale! Approachable! Or I'll fire your sorry ass and then you'll see how far that pretty face and hard body gets you out on the streets!"_

_Then he had paused and looked around like he was regretting everything that had led him there before nodding at Derek and walking away with an awkwardly mumbled,_

_"So work on that."_

It was decidedly  _not_  a pleasant memory and Derek was so lost in it that he startled when someone tapped him on the shoulder.

He glanced up to see the kid from the other night and he couldn't help the way he jerked back in panic and hissed,

" _You_!"

The kid—Stiles—looked quite taken aback and he took a large step backward, putting a fair bit of distance between them.

"Uh, hi," Stiles laughed nervously, scratching his head whilst holding out a was of cash like a peace offering, "I just realized I never actually paid for the wine, so here."

Eyeing Stiles warily for a moment, Derek dropped his gaze to the cash and counted out the amount before offering Stiles his change.

"Oh, no," Stiles shook his head, smiling, "I also needed to grab this."

He lifted a dozen eggs from his basket and waved it around for a moment, the eggs shifting precariously before Stiles realized that probably wasn't a smart decision and dropped it none too gently down onto the counter. He grinned at Derek one last time before shifting the weight of the eggs back onto his arm, cradling it protectively and before Derek could say a thing, Stiles waved goodbye, tossing his next words casually over his shoulder without so much as a backwards glance,

"Keep the change!"

Derek looked back down at the bills in his hands and allowed himself a small smile as he stared at Stiles' retreating figure.

Like he said, perks.

+++

Despite seeing Stiles more and more frequently over the next couple of weeks, Derek's job was still The Worst Job Ever, completely deserving  _all_  the capitalizations.

Tuesday night was absolute hell; he'd had an awful day, one of his professors even going so far as to kick him out of her class when he corrected her on the theorem she had written down on the board.

But seriously, that was hardly his fault at all. He was only correcting her lest he copy down the wrong notes and fuck up his finals (unlikely but still, anything was possible).

And then, when he got home, expecting to have at least three hours before coming into his late night shift, Marsha had called him up and said her son had swallowed staples ( _again_ ) and had to be sent to the ER ( _again_ ). Seriously, she had got to start coming up with more believable alibis. Derek wasn't even sure Marsha  _had_  a kid. But, despite the weak excuse, he had found himself getting out of bed and coming in to work early only to find that Finstock had already called in someone to replace Marsha but, since he was already here, he might as well start stacking the shelves.

With feminine hygiene products.

_Whilst the shop was **packed**_.

It was like Finstock  _enjoyed_  embarrassing him out of his wits, as if Laura and Erica didn't already do that on a daily basis. Scratch that, they were probably all under some kind of bet to see who could humiliate him the most in a day.

Which is why, of course, as he's desperately clutching bags of  _Extra-Wide, super-absorbent with wings!_ napkins to stop them all from falling out onto the floor while he's rearranging the ones already on the shelves, someone crashes into him with a grocery cart.

And those motherfuckers  _hurt_.

He does drop them after that, biting back a string of swear words that would make a sailor blush.

"Oh my  _god_ ," a now familiar voice breathes and Derek has to physically keep from smothering himself in the _feather-soft with new flowery scent!_ pads. He steels himself before turning around to level his best glare at the culprit, who was currently flushing a gorgeous shade of red, his unusually pale cheeks looking much more edible under the fluorescent lighting than any of the pastries the store stocked.

"Stiles," Derek said dryly, swallowing past the lump in his throat when Stiles smiled back at him weakly.

"Derek," Stiles laughed awkwardly, his gaze flicking down to the mess on the floor and then back up to Derek's face, blushing even more furiously, "I, ah, sorry?"

"Was that supposed to be a question?" Derek smirked, amused. Stiles gaped at him for a moment before doing a completely unnecessary full-body wriggle (is this kid trying to  _kill_  him?) and nodding.

"Anyway, uh, I'm going to grab this," Stiles said, bending down to take a pack before tossing it into his cart and then grabbing a couple more of the packs to shove them into Derek's arms, "I'm sorry I can't help you out more but I really gotta run. Allison's panicking and she needed these ASAP she said."

Stiles started brisk-walking back to the checkout counter when he stopped and whipped back around to call out,

"Sorry for crashing into you and also you should smile more because it's really pretty!"

He's rounded the corner and disappeared out of sight before Derek's even finished disappointedly mouthing the name 'Allison' and blushing at the compliment.

+++

The next time he sees Stiles is, surprisingly, not in the grocery. Instead, it's when Derek, unsurprisingly, is making an ass out of himself.

It's his 24th birthday, and for some stupid, completely batshit,  _insane_  reason, Laura and Erica thought it would be a great idea to get him  _so_  hammered, he decided to do an impromptu strip show in the gay club they apparently were in  _and_  instead of stopping him like they should've, began to  _take pictures_.

He's already shirtless, and he's undoing his belt with more enthusiasm than sexiness when he sees a familiar face whoop up at him and wave a wad of bills in his general direction.

He stops abruptly, his fingers stilling on the cold metal of his buckle and the music is reduced to a dim roaring in his ears while his intoxicated brain decides to make one of the  ~~best~~  worst decisions of his life.

He flicks his belt open and, keeping his eyes steady on Stiles' face (or as steady as a piss drunk can manage, so in reality he wasn't looking at Stiles' face and was more or less staring at the far wall to the left of Stiles' head) fumbles with the button of his jeans before pushing the zipper down slowly, hyper aware of the way Stiles' gaze seems unable to decide whether to stay staring back at Derek or to where Derek's fingers are nimbly pushing at the now-open fly of his jeans. Once Derek's jeans are slung low on his hips, he drops to his knees so his face is more or less level with Stiles' and he can see the boy swallow, the cash in his hand still outstretched towards him.

Stiles is just as drunk, if not more so, than Derek, which probably explains the way he just stands there, his eyes just on the edge of too-wide and his whole body jerking when Derek leans forward to take the money from Stiles with his mouth, carefully closing on the bills, his teeth bared in a bright, white smile. Stiles' grip is loose, and the bills slide free almost immediately and Derek, in a fit of confidence he didn't really know he possessed, shifted forward, now sitting down on the stage, his legs swinging off the edge and his thighs spread wide, inviting.

He grins at Stiles, sharp and dirty, and beckons him closer, immensely pleased when the boy rushes to obey, stumbling in between Derek's legs. His warmth against Derek's body is already heaven and Derek hums before leaning in towards that  _perfect_ , soft, pink mouth and—

"What the hell happened last night?" Derek croaked out thickly, shuffling slowly into the kitchen, dressed in nothing but his boxers and a pair of aviators perched on his nose because the light of the sun is something he is not ready to deal with. Not this early in the morn—afternoon? Is it really already 2pm? Derek stares at the clock in disbelief for a while before shrugging.

Fair enough.

Erica looks up at him from under her lashes and slides a plate of toast and scrambled eggs towards him, but says nothing, choosing instead to sip her coffee.

Warning bells start ringing in his head but right now, he's too busy being thankful for the food that he just plops down onto the closest chair and digs in to the meal, which is surprisingly delicious.

"How the hell did you learn how to cook this?" Derek asked through a mouthful of food. Erica's known him for more that 15 years now, she can deal with him, disgusting habits and all. God knows he's dealt with enough her awful cooking and even worse cleaning to give him the right to be as disgusting as possible in from of her.

"I didn't make this," she replied, peering at him again over her coffee mug, a mischievous quirk to her lips.

Derek shrugs, completely oblivious.

"Oh, so you got Laura to cook," he said, nodding, "That's even more impressive."

Erica's patented shit-eating grin spreads across her face and just then, Derek realizes exactly how fucked his is. Bracing himself for whatever's about to come out of her mouth, he takes a sip of some absolutely amazing coffee (and that should've tipped him off because neither Laura nor Erica could actually make coffee) and waits for the worst.

"The guy you brought home last night did all this."

Derek spits out his coffee and drops the steaming mug all over his lap.

+++

After the appropriate amount of cursing and gritting his teeth against nearly-excruciating pain, Derek took one look at Erica's face and just went,

"Nope."

She burst out in hysterics, already texting Laura as he grabbed his plate and stomped back to his room in a huff.

Still a little disgruntled over the fact he had slept with Stiles and couldn't remember even a little bit of it, he doesn't notice the crumpled piece of paper lying on the floor next to his bed until he shifts around trying to get comfortable and sleep for another few years.

If Derek hadn't been such a compulsive neat freak, he probably wouldn't have even  _seen_  the page. His heart pounding, he picks the sheet up and straightens it out carefully.

_Sorry gotta run, Scott and Allison emergency! See you in the shop soon x_

There wasn't a phone number, or even a damn name.

Allison and now this guy, Scott?

Derek buried his face in his pillows and wondered if it was possible to smother himself.

It turns out it wasn't, and all too soon someone was shaking him awake.

"Der. Der, seriously, get up."

Derek mumbled something before shifting around and throwing the covers over his head. There was a sigh and suddenly, hands were gripping his ankles and pulling him off the bed.

Derek's eyes flew open and his hands reached out blindly to grab the headboard, the wooden planks  _just_  slipping out of his grasp and he ended up toppling out of bed, coming nose-to-nose with Laura.

" _What is **wrong**  with you_?" he hissed in outrage, picking himself up and glaring balefully at her.

"You got a call," she said simply, tossing his phone at him, "Finstock wants you to come in tonight."

Derek groaned.

"Did you tell him I can't?" he asked, crossing his fingers. With his luck, Laura probably told Finstock he'd be happy taking a double shift. Laura smiled beatifically at him and just threw her hair over her shoulder and walked away.

He looked at the time on his phone and resisted the urge to just bash his face against the wall. He had less than an hour to wash up, feel less like death's little abused brother, and drive to the store, which was like a fifteen-minute drive away.

He got there with ten minutes to spare and walked into the change room only to find Finstock there looking completely baffled by his arrival.

"Hale!" he boomed, "What are you doing here?"

Derek's eyebrows crinkled in confusion.

"Uh, you asked me to come in," Derek said, before hastily adding, "Sir."

Finstock looked at him like he was crazy.

"Of course I didn't," he snapped, shaking his head and looking down on his clipboard, "I've got Marcus and Karl on shift tonight. Besides I assumed you'd be in some incredible pain from your birthday last night."

"You knew when my birthday was?"

"Not the point," he said dismissively and rummaged around in his pocket, pulling out a couple of painkillers, "Here. Come in tomorrow night."

"But I, okay," Derek said, deciding to take the out he was being offered and turned on his heel to go back to his Camaro, already plotting Laura's revenge.

As he was walking out of the door, he walked straight into a warm, vaguely familiar body and he shut his eyes because  _his life_.

"Derek," Stiles said, smiling softly at him and Derek opened his eyes, unable to stop the scowl from spreading across his face.

It was like that day with the wine all over again, and Stiles looked crestfallen, the smile sliding off his face. He looked down awkwardly at his hands and cleared his throat.

"It was good seeing you," was all he said, before pushing past Derek, trying not to brush against and Derek just _could not_  anymore.

He was an idiot and he  _loved_  Stiles. Fuck it if they'd never gone on a date, or haven’t seen each other outside this stupid store or the club. Stiles knew more about Derek than people who've known Derek for years. There was something so inherently trustworthy in Stiles and Derek could see himself letting Stiles in, allowing Stiles to see a part of him that no one had, not in years. He was  _done_  with being lonely and sad because of something that happened to him years ago. He could do this.

"Stiles," he said, turning around to look at the boy.

Stiles turned around and stared right back at him.

**Epilogue:**

"M'not going to lie," Scott giggled, raising his champagne flute towards Stiles and Derek and wiggling it slightly, already pretty drunk, "I didn't like Derek at first."

"Good, because I didn't like you either," Derek called out and snorted when Stiles let go of his hand to smack him weakly on the shoulder.

"Shhhh," Scott said, squinting at Derek and frowning at him as his spittle flew everywhere, "M'tryna deliver my best bro-man speech here."

The wedding had been beautiful and private; Scott & Allison, Jackson & Lydia, Stiles' father & Scott's mother, Laura & her boyfriend, Erica & Boyd and Danny & Isaac. No one had complained when everyone cracked open the booze the minute the ceremony had ended and by now, most of them were at least tipsy. There were already 4 broken glasses and Derek couldn't even begin to imagine how furious the caterers and cleanup staff were at this point. But, Stiles was happy and  _he_  was happy so they could all just suck it.

Okay, it was possible he was also kind of buzzed.

"Your husband isn't even listening!" Scott screeched to Stiles, who laughed loudly and slapped at Derek again.

"Listen to my brooo," he slurred and Derek shook his head, a dumb smile plastered on his face. This would be all really embarrassing if neither of them could remember anything tomorrow.

"Sorry, you were saying you didn't like me?"

"Thash right," Scott nodded vigorously, "Because he thought we were all boning each other."

His gesture encompassed the room and the only parents in the room shook their heads, muttering something about boundaries and mentally scarring kids. Derek, however, winced, remembering that conversation.

"He shaid," Scott continued, his voice booming and the microphone protesting with the sharp sound of feedback and everyone clapped their hands to their ears for a moment before Scott was waving at them again, "Okay, he shaid to Stiles that he loved Stiles. He  _loved_  Stiles and he shaid he would share Stiles wif Allison. Because he thought tha Stiles was also sexing me and Allison."

"Ah, s'when I fell in love with you," Stiles murmured quietly, bringing Derek's hand up to his face and placing a kiss to his open palm. Derek felt his ears heat up and scowled when Laura caught his eye and winked. That whole thing was her fault. She had texted Stiles from his phone, telling him to meet Derek at the store because Stiles had programmed his number into Derek's phone while he was still asleep. Then he had told Stiles that no matter what, he was prepared to have as much of Stiles as he could have, assuming Stiles was in some sort of polyamorous relationship with Scott and Allison.

"Okay, that's enough," Melissa said, getting up and attempting to herd Scott back into his seat.

"Nooooo!" Scott half-shrieked, thankfully having the foresight to drop the hand holding the microphone to his side, so there was no more god-awful feedback, "I'm not done! Moooooom!"

The rest of the room was in hysterics, as Melissa physically dragged Scott back to the table, but as they passed Derek, Scott grounded his weight and leant forward, resting his hand on the table as not to fall over.

"When I first met you, I didn't like you," Scott said, his eyes boring seriously into Derek's, "But now I do. Becaush you make him happy, sho thanks. You are good for him."

Scott nodded to himself and then shifted his weight back up, almost knocking his mom over. Derek was pretty stunned and when he looked over at Stiles, he saw his own expression mirrored in his face.

"I love you," he whispered, leaning towards him to press their foreheads together and squeezing Stiles' hand, "I love you so much."

Stiles nodded and reached out to touch Derek's face, the brush of his fingers feather-light.

"I love you too," he whispered back and titled his head up to kiss him.

**Author's Note:**

> we [tumble](http://officerstilinskihale.tumblr.com/) today, we [tumble](http://officerstilinskihale.tumblr.com/) tomorrow, we [tumble](http://officerstilinskihale.tumblr.com/) everyday.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!
> 
> I also take random prompts, just by the way, so if you want anything written down, just message me and stuff. Anything over 1500 words gets posted here on AO3 but anything under that is posted as a drabble on my tumblr. See you there!


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